


Don't You Want Somebody to Love

by MsImpala67



Series: Across the Millenia [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Flower Crowns, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Witch AU, Witchcraft, Woodstock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsImpala67/pseuds/MsImpala67
Summary: The coven attends Woodstock, and Misha makes flower crowns.





	Don't You Want Somebody to Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



**_Woodstock, 1969_ **

Misha’s swaying back and forth, faded blue jeans slung low on his hips, snugged tight around his thighs, the rest of his body totally bare. Jared stretches out in the grass and grins up at him. Those jeans look old, like they were probably Jensen’s first, worn in all the right places and so,  _ so _ soft. They all have the whole world at their fingertips, but Misha still likes wearing their old hand-me-downs.

The magic crackling through the air has calmed down, and Misha’s just barely buzzing now, a lazy grin on his face as he listens to the music, arms stretched out like he’s floating while the spell fades. The whole festival has been a little wild even for them, throwing their magic around like the drugs everyone else is using, and coming down is almost as much of a release as the rest of it. 

Jensen slides his leg over, nudges Jared’s bare foot with his own. “Where are Rob and Rich?”

“Up toward the stage with Osric. Wanted to see this band.”

Jensen nods and closes his eyes, letting their feet stay together. 

“Come on, Misha,” Jared sighs, letting the sun wash over him and seep into his skin. “Come lie down with us.”

Misha turns immediately, so pliant and loose, and drops down, crawls his way over to them and flops down, his head resting on Jared’s stomach. The music plays on, a happy drumbeat and a tambourine that feels very much like the pulse of their heartbeats, all beating together. When he turns and reaches out, Jared’s already leaning into his hand.

“Your hair’s gotten so long,” Misha murmurs, letting his fingers tangle in it, brush through it, tug at it until Jared feels the sweet sting. 

And then, without a word, Misha pops back up to his feet, holding out a finger for them to wait, and wanders out into the field. 

“He’s not wrong,” Jensen says, still not opening his eyes. Jared turns his attention to Jensen’s face, to looking over each freckle, counting them to see if any new ones have popped up since the last time he checked. “When was your last haircut?”

“You don’t like it?” Jared leans over and shakes his head against Jensen’s bare chest, his brown locks brushing over Jensen’s nipples until they’re hard. “I thought you liked having something to grab onto.”

Jensen smirks. “I do.” His hands fly out faster than Jared can prepare for even when knows they’re coming, one landing in his hair and the other on his ass. Jensen pulls and squeezes, making Jared gasp with the dueling sensations. “Never said I  _ minded  _ that it’s long.”

“Here!” Misha’s back, sitting down cross-legged in the grass and brandishing an armful of wildflowers. “The field is full of them.”

Jensen opens one eye and frowns. “What are those for?”

“I’m making a crown for our king,” he says softly, long fingers already braiding two stems together. He works until it’s perfect, a green crown decorated with soft pastel blooms, ethereal and earthy. 

Jared grins and lets Misha place is on his head, wondering how it looks against his dark hair and tanned skin. 

“Well?” He cocks his head and poses a little, waits for Misha’s approval.

“It’s perfect,” he smiles. 

Misha glances over at Jensen and raises an eyebrow, but Jensen shakes his head and practically growls. “Don’t even think about it. But one would look good on you.”

Misha grins at that and starts working on a second crown while Jensen stares up at Jared.  “It’s nice,” he tells him. “Fitting for this weekend.”

Jared grins and waves his hand, changing the color of the air around him for just a second, a streak of purple and blue between them. “Yeah.”

Jensen laughs. “You’re still high.”

“Yeah, I am. High and pretty.” Jared swirls his hand again, pink and green erupting from his fingertips this time, shimmering a little in the sun before disappearing like smoke. 

“A pretty princess,” Jensen murmurs, shifting his body so he’s hovering over Jared, leaning down for a kiss. Misha is still crafting his own crown, and pays no attention when Jensen grabs a flower from the pile and sticks it between his teeth, drags it down Jared’s chest and circles his nipples with it. 

Jared sighs and arches into the silk of the petals, letting his nipples swell and harden as Jensen glides his hands over his ribs. The flower moves back and forth across his chest, then starts down his stomach, Jensen’s lips rubbing against his skin every now and then, soft and warm. 

“You know, your hair isn’t the only place a flower would look pretty,” he says, edging Jared’s zipper down.

The clouds watch as Jared melts into the ground, becomes part of the cool grass, while Jensen works his jeans down and off. When he’s completely bare, lying under a tree at a music festival for anyone to see, Jensen smiles, looks around at how no one is really paying attention, and grabs more flowers. 

Misha now has a crown on his own head, sitting calmly, just watching. 

The flowers nestle around Jared’s cock like they want to be there, Jensen’s fingers making quick work of the decoration, adjusting Jared around the petals until he’s hard, twitching against them.

“So beautiful,” Misha breathes, eyes glittering as they reflect the clear sky. 

“There,” Jensen nods, satisfied. “Perfect.”

“Except I’m hard now,” Jared says. “Gonna take care of that for me?”

“I don’t want to ruin the flowers,” Jensen tells him. “I can’t touch you.”

That doesn’t mean he can’t make Jared come, and they both know it. 

Suddenly, Jared’s surrounded by two men, pressing up on either side, shielding him from prying eyes, nuzzling at his neck and running fingers over bare skin. Misha’s tongue is probing his earlobe, Jensen’s nipple is hard against his own, and he can’t remember the last time things were this  _ good. _

Some would say the world’s going to shit around them, and there are obviously wars being fought and oppression and violence running rampant. But Jared’s twelve hundred years old, and that’s pretty par for the course. There are flowers in his hair, soft and familiar lips on his body, magic burning in his veins, and he has his coven, stable and together and  _ happy _ . 

This is the whole point of existence, he thinks, arching into Jensen’s hands as far as he can, until Jensen pushes him down.

“Hold still,” he grins. “Don’t mess up your flowers.”

Time starts to float and dip and fly, and Jared isn’t sure how long they lie there in the sun, touching and feeling each other, kissing and rubbing until he’s pretty sure the flowers are all glistening with his slick. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t mess up Jensen’s art project. 

Misha sends the first real wave of pleasure. He leans up enough to lock eyes with Jared, then holds his hand over Jared’s cock, several inches up, gently waving it back and forth.  Jared feels the tingle deep inside, like Misha’s actually touching him. It’s a slow, rocking warmth that makes his breath catch in the back of his throat. 

Misha keeps his hand moving as he leans down, pressing their foreheads together and tangling their flower crowns, laughing when he has to struggle to pull away. 

Jensen runs a hand down Jared’s thigh and spreads his legs carefully, gets his hand between them, following Misha’s lead and not actually touching him, leaving the garden around his dick in tact. 

“Go slow,” Jared mutters, running a hand through Jensen’s short hair, sliding his thumb down the side of his face and over his bottom lip. 

Misha keeps working his cock, keeping the magic easy and light, just teasing. Jensen rests his head on Jared’s chest, and it only takes a few seconds for Jared to feel him, too, a sweet simmering deep inside, the same feeling as Jensen sliding one finger inside of him to stretch him open. 

They could be napping, for all the motion among them, just their breathing and the slight twitch of hands. But Jared is very much awake, lying still as he absorbs every ounce of what they give him, takes in the sensations and lets them drift through his body until he’s glowing with it. 

There’s nothing to say, no declarations to be made, nothing he could verbalize that they don’t already know and feel. Words cheapen things for them anyway. They’ve seen and done everything, and there are no words for moments like this.

So Jared lets them bring him to the edge, moment by moment, building their rhythm slowly, and he gives himself over.

Jensen rests his lips on Jared’s jaw as he thrusts into Jared without touching him, just to let him know he’s there, just because he wants to do this the same way they do everything- together. 

And that’s when Jared comes. 

He pulses hard and hot over the flowers, coating them in white pearls, holding as still as possible as he quivers a little, pulls both men just a little closer. 

When he opens his eyes, the clouds are still watching, fluffy and as soft as he feels right now. 

“Look how pretty you are, Princess,” Jensen teases. 

Jared lifts his head long enough to look down at the mess he’s made, and Jensen’s right. It  _ is _ pretty, actually. 

Misha finds the bag they brought with them, rummages around and pulls out the camera. Jared lets him snap a couple of pictures, knowing they’ll fuck all over again in Misha’s dark room when he develops the film. 

“Should we clean up?” Jensen asks. “Go find the others?”

“No,” Jared smiles. “They’ll find us. Let’s just rest here for a while.”

The three of them snuggle down again, falling into that blissful state between sleep and consciousness. 

They leave the flowers where they are. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! XOXO


End file.
